Visara the Dreadful
by Queen of Blades
Summary: the story of a young assasin named Visara. HA, EVIL Viper66!!! i DID upload it!!! :-P (he told me not to until he finished his ficcie. But he caught a virus.) based on a game I once played.
1. The Trial of Visara the Dreaful, Assasin

Escape from Hell.  
A Magic fanfic by Queen of Blades  
  
Hi everyone! I am writing this based on a game I played Viper66. well, him an one other dude. He had an elf deck, and the other dude had a circle of protection green, and Viper could kill me instantly, but I convinced him I would kill the other dude if he didn't kill me, so then he would win. Now that i've given away the plot, let's meet Visara, shall we?  
  
  
Escape from Hell  
(or, Out of the frying pan...)  
  
Visara, being a black type, could not really control her dark nature. After a good 10 years, an Elf-lord finally caught up to her and arrested the beautiful young asssain. She was sent to trial. Today was the last day of her trial.  
"Any closing statements from the accused?" the way the judge said "accused" made it seem more like "condemned".  
"Yes, your honor."  
"Very well then. you may adress the jury."  
"Thank you, your honor." The judge sniffed at the title, as if to say "you are not worthy to even speak my title, let alone my name.  
Visara took a deep breath. "Good people of the jury, I ask you this. Have you ever been on the street and starving? Begging gets you little. I was nearly dead of hunger when the Cleric approached me. Can you even begin to imagine it? Filth, everywhere. On the streets, nobody cared if you lived or died. If you so much as look at someone wrong, you died. Death was nothing.  
"So when someone offered me a chance to get away, it seemed like paridise. A steady job, high pay, a home.... that's all it was to me: a job. It was that or die a horrible death. Can you blame me? I chose life. It wasn't kill or be killed for me. It was life or death."  
She sat down. She glanced at the jury: no tears. This was not good.  
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you may take a short recess now."  
A young woman stood up. "No need, your honor. We have come to a conclusion."  
"How do you...."  
"I'm psychic. We're all thinking the same thing. We, the jury, in the name of the people, proclaim Visara guilty as charged, and reccomend the death penalty."  
Visara turned white, and felt faint. The death penalty! No!  
"Very well then. She shall be executed one week from today, at dawn. Case dissmissed."  
The bailiff led her away in chains. She was doomed.   
  
kk, that was short.... o well. REVIEW 


	2. Dues Ex Machina

Visara the Dreadful ch. 2  
  
Before I begin, i would like to say that i, sadly, do NOT own Visara. You will find out who does in this chapter. I down own him, either.  
Oh, and Shadowhsifter: her type is imortant because it infulences the way she thinks and feels and acts, but her stats arn't important, really, because she is not in any hand-to-hand combat yet. And they may change, they may not be the same as her card. And i began where I did because it is the true beginnings of the story.   
  
4 those of you who don't know, I picked Visara to be the assasin b/c she has this ability: "Tap: destroy taget creature" (i think that's how it goes...). So she's the perfect assain, neh?  
  
On with the fic!  
  
Visara felt nothing as they led her back to her cell. She felt no hatred, no anger, no sorrow; she just existed. It scared her a little sometimes that she could be so utterly without feeling. But it helped her to do her job.   
That night, she saw a figure in the darkeness outside her cell. She sat up, perfectly calm. He opened the door. Were they kiling her off earlier than planned? But no, she had seen the executioinar, and he was shorter than this man. Who WAS he?  
"Come, my pet. I can give you your life, if you hand it over to me. I will free you, but I will own you. Is that a fair trade, my pet?" his voice was soft, caressing, with a slight hiss to it. She stared at him, but could not make out his face.  
"Why?"  
"I need a favor done for me. Did you think I would allow them to kill the best assasin in the kingdom just like that, without getteing her for myself?"  
"I'll do it."  
"That's a good girl." He slipped something around her neck, and it glowed. A necklace? No. A coller. She looked up at him.  
"I have to keep track of my belongings, of course. Come, this way."  
"My weapons..."  
"Here, this room." They entered a small closet full of conficsated weapond. She found hers quickly enough. She caressed her beloved longbow, and strapped a dagger to her waist. They left the room, snuck past the guards, and went free into the night.  
As soon as they were in better lighting, she turned to look at the stranger. He pulled back his hood from his cloak. He was the Cabal Patriarch.  
He took her to the palace, where his innumerable attendants rose from their sleep to show her to her room. Once inside, she attempted to take off the coller. It burned at her fingers and would not budge. Finally she gave up and went to sleep.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
She saw the Cabal at breakfast the next morning. He smiled at her.  
"Good morning, my pet. I suppose you'll want to know all about your target, neh? Of course you do. I have a file on him, here." He slid a file folder to her, and she began to flip through it.   
"His name is Gerrard. He is a powerful opponent of mine... he appearsto want to usurp the throne. Your mission.... well, you already know that. I don't care if it is discovered that he has been murdered, don't care if it's bloody or silent. You shall have everything you need. Here, take this credit card; it comes preloaded with about 10000 dollers on it, and if you go over, i will renew it. Depending on the results, of course. If yuo buy a few horses and do nothing about Gerrard... well, I have my own executioner, mind you." (That's not an emptey threat. I have a Cabal Executioner of 2....-Authoress).  
She ate her meal quickly. "I shall begin today, your majesty."  
"I expect you shall. You are dismissed, my pet."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
She packed up her things and stole out of the castle. She crept quietly, evesdropping on many a conversation. It was in her nature. She didn't hear much, though, until she was almost to the door. Then she heard a conversation that made her blood run cold.  
"Your majesty."  
"Executioner. You know your task, of course?"  
"Yes, your makesty."  
"Good.... keep tabs on her. the coller she wears is an excellent tracking device i designed myself. She can't take it off. When her job is done.... well, I can't leave her alive to possible work for one of my enemies, can I? Not once she finds that killing me removes the binding. You know."  
"Yes, your majesty."  
Visara turned pale. She then recovered, acccepting this as fact, and went about finding a way to solve it. That was the way her mind worked: learn it, accept it, fix it, move on. She crept out of the castle.   
'I have until I eliminate the target, right? So I'm safe for now. Something will happen, I know it!'  
  
Poor Visara! you KNOW that's gotta be annoying, to wear a coller and be called "my pet" every third sentence! and the whole killing her thing..... 


	3. Cabal City

Visara chapter 3  
  
I should explain something before I start: One, the Gerrard in the fic just happens to have that name, he's not the real one. Two, in this fic, so far, Visara is human. You'll find out why later. And of course it's AU- I havn't read all the books or nothing, I just play the game and made a world where the game fits. Sorry to be misleading.  
  
She made her way quickly through the streets in the city, making herself blend in as much as possible, to puzzle things over. So. The collar would probably track her... she couldn't just run away. But she couldn't kill the target without taking out the collar- he'd have her killed. Indeed, she had a sneaking suspicion he'd already hired an assasin to take her out. And surely not ALL the guards on the rooftops were actually guarding anything?  
  
She set part of her mind to puzzling this over while she thought about her target. This Gerrard... Shipman, his name was. Master of a small fleet, nothing special except that he was the bastard son of the Grand Vizir. So that was his plan.. kill the Cabal, the Vizir would step into his place, then.. what, kill the Vizir? Or had he been promised a high position by his father?  
  
She made her way down to the docks, blinking a little, coming out of her thoughts long enough to notice the city around her. Stenches from allyways where homeless citizens dwelled mixed with tantalizing smells of various fried foods. There was noise everywhere- no need to disguise the sound of her footfalls. Bright colored umbrellas sheilded market stalls from the hot sun. The entire city was like a large market: tall concrete buildings housed people and larger buisnesses such as taverns, and the stalls sold anything a person living there could want. She flipped a man a silver piece for an orange- lunch. She couldn't afford to put on much weight or it would be harder to hide. Then she snorted at herself and bought one of the fried dough things another man was selling. Why bother keeping fit, when she was going to die anyways?  
  
No, musn't think like that, she reasoned. She would escape somehow. So what if nobody ever escaped from the Cabal before? Doing the impossible was her job. She had been trained by a retired pitfighter- the best fighting teachers, since only the best come out of the pits alive. She was small and thin and pretty, and she had bumped off many an important individual. She knew all the tricks of the trade- who could harm her?  
  
Ah, but assuming she was invincible was pure folly. Invaulnerable, maybe, but she was fallible nonetheless. She came to the busy docks and looked up. She paused a moment to gape like a tourist: she never had gotten used to the size of the royal ships. Immense, many times a man's height. She looked about for the Impermeable, the ship this Gerrard was captain of. There- the largest, with the king's own colors on the emblem, and flying bright flags. Not black- even though the city was a Black city, only pirates flew black flags. Funny, how the most colorful cities were Black. She'd been all over, and seen White cities, with their pure white cloth for stalls and their white cities. Even the pidgeons were white. And Greens mostly lived in the forests- Elves, not even proper humans, and various beasts they swore were sentient. Reds kept to the barbarian lands, but they made good pit fighters and tended to migrate to Cabal City. Blues- Wizards mostly- kept to their Towers, with wonderful magical artifacts. It was even rumored that some of the Blue citizans were artifacts themselves! But that was silly- things like that were outlawed in most Black lands she'd been to, and she assumed it was much the same everywhere else.  
  
And then there were Slivers. Her eye went to a small animal which she had assumed to be the ship's Firecat, and gasped in horror. A Sliver! Didn't they know that just by getting it withen a few miles of any others, it would become a super killing machine? What with the Sliver Raids getting bad in other parts of the continent, it could suddanly mutate at any second... she laughed a little to herself. What a way to toy with death! Keeping a Sliver chained up on the deck, they could tell if a port was under attack before they reached it. Problem was, they'd be under attack as well. And if there was an Overlord about... she'd heard those were nasty.  
  
So. This Gerrard was a bold one, brave, flirting with death. He'd be a difficult target. Perfect. And who knows, maybe a secret admirer would slip him a rune of protection... A Black Circle of Protection, perhaps? And who knows, her journey to find information might take her to just the right White city to get one... her mouth twisted into a smirk, and she moved on, muching her dough thing, pretending to be just another tourist, fresh off the train.   
  
Please review? Please? 


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